


Summer Nights

by wewereneverhomeless (hopewithfeathers)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-29 20:49:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/691290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopewithfeathers/pseuds/wewereneverhomeless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a warm summer night, Sam can't get enough of Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Nights

**Author's Note:**

> Just some Weecest cuddles/smut. Sam's 16, but I didn't mention their ages so you can read it however you want.

Sam wakes up flushed and warm, snuggled into the fold of Dean’s arms and his whole face buried in his brother’s neck. Sam sighs against Dean’s skin, nibbling a kiss onto his collarbone. It’s really too hot to be curled together like they are (and really, Dad could come up and check on them at anytime), but they just gravitate towards each other now. Sam can’t sleep unless some part of him is touching Dean—preferably every part of him. 

Sam lifts his head a little to look at their entwined legs, and tries to shift one of his to the right, because it is really fucking hot. Dean whines quietly in his sleep, unconsciously clutching Sam tighter around the waist. Sam giggles, giving up and pressing closer again. He can’t help it. 

He yawns widely into Dean’s shoulder, nuzzling there like he only does when Dean’s asleep. Dean groans again, stirring, and presses closer to Sam. Oh. Sam can feel Dean’s hard on now against his hip, and suddenly he’s even hotter than he was a few seconds ago. He moans back and rolls his hips down into Dean, his breath hitching at the contact.

“Dean,” Sam whispers. He rolls his hips again, and Dean’s eyelids flutter. He settles again after a moment, though, but Sam can’t stop now. He grinds forward into Dean, already painfully hard, and Dean grinds sloppily back. He’s making those desperate little “ah ah”s in his sleep that Sam loves, and they’re so much rougher and louder than when he’s trying to hold them back. They push Sam over the edge faster than anything, and Sam comes with a jerky shout and a bite to Dean’s neck. 

Dean wakes up with a grunt then, disoriented and more than halfway there. Sam blushes bright red. Suddenly, it seems really weird to rub off against Dean while he’s asleep, and Sam hides his face in Dean’s neck when Dean mumbles his name. 

“Sammy?” Sam’s cock twitches again at the hoarse, sleep-muddled drawl of Dean’s voice. Dean must smell sex on Sam then, because he stills a little in surprise, and then chuckles lowly. “Couldn’t wait for me, kiddo?”

“I didn’t mean—“ Sam starts, blushing even redder. “You were moaning in your sleep, and I just…I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it.” Dean blinks and tilts Sam’s chin up, gazing back at him with sleep-heavy eyes. Sam squeaks in surprise when Dean kisses him hard on the lips, scraping his teeth over Sam’s bottom lip. 

“It’s okay, Sammy,” Dean breathes, once he understands what Sam’s saying. His breath is coming out faster, thicker, like it does when he likes what Sam’s doing. “Christ, Sammy, it’s so okay.” 

Sam rumbles a groan from the back of his throat when Dean rubs against him, his cock straining through his sweatpants. Sam wastes no time in pulling Dean’s pants down to his knees and wrapping his hand around his cock, pumping hard like Dean likes. Dean ruts into him as Sam jerks him off, and Sam rubs back, groaning until they’re both coming this time. 

Sam pants hard once they’re both spent, striping his pajama pants off and throwing them to the floor. He’s warm now, flushed, but not in the unbearable way he was a few minutes ago. He turns back to Dean, who’s watching him with a half-lidded eyes and a dreamy smile—one that Sam would never see if Dean was fully awake. 

“God, you’re so hot like this,” Sam says, before he can really stop himself. “I love you like this.” 

It’s the closest either of them have come to saying I love you since they were little, but Dean doesn’t even flinch. He smirks and reaches out to cup Sam’s cheek, his palm comforting against Sam’s cooling skin. He doesn’t say anything, either too sleepy or he just likes the silence. The intent is there though, what he wants to make sure Sam knows—that Sam doesn’t have to be sorry, that Sam can have this whenever he wants. It sends a thrill up Sam’s spine, and he smiles, kissing Dean on the lips. This kiss is sweeter, no hurry. 

Sam and Dean lay there for a while, staring at the canopy of stars through the loft window. Dean points out the different constellations he knows—Orion, the Big Dipper (which Sam rolls his eyes at, everyone knows the Big Dipper), and a few others that Sam tunes out. He watches Dean watch the stars, his eyes lighting up in a way that Sam only sees when they’re alone like this. When they’re all alone with nothing to worry about—at least for that moment. 

Dean’s smooth voice lulls Sam back to sleep. His head falls heavier and heavier on Dean’s chest, and the last thing he’s aware of before he drifts off is the kiss pressed to his forehead and the smell of Dean.


End file.
